


It's Always Darkest Just Before The Dawn

by cutiepidalecki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1811575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutiepidalecki/pseuds/cutiepidalecki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is your average high school student: popular, good at sports and good with the ladies. He's just trying to get himself through his Senior year, when the Novak family arrive at Lawrence High. After literally stumbling into the youngest Novak brother on the very first day, Dean's life is about to change dramatically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

The sun was hot on Dean’s face. He sat up with a start, gasping for breath and clutching wildly at his bed sheets. _It was just a dream,_ he thought to himself. Just another one of those stupid dreams he had been having. It was the third one this week, and it was only Tuesday. He sighed, getting up and shutting the curtains. He glanced over at the clock next to his bed. 5:34. He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed at his eyes. There was no point in going back to sleep now, he thought walking out of his bedroom and into the hallway.

Today was the first day back at school and the thought of having to deal with people was almost unbearable. It wasn’t as if Dean had a particularly difficult time at school, he just had a very low tolerance for the people there. He was popular, good with girls, good at sports; his only issue was keeping his grades up. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy learning- he just didn’t see the point in trying when he’ll never be good enough to get into college. His life was destined to be miserable; he will be forced to stay in Kansas for the rest of his life working at the garage, taking on the family business. He was exceptionally good at mechanics; his father had taught him everything he knew. He just didn’t want to be limited to this small town life, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice. He didn’t have the brains of the family- that lied with his little brother, Sam. No, he knew that he would amount to nothing. Destined to be worthless, a burden to everyone.

Dean walked up to his parent’s alcohol cabinet and grabbed a bottle of his father’s whiskey. He would get in so much trouble for this but he didn’t care. He just needed to shake these thoughts, give himself that buzz...

He took a swig from the bottle, wincing as it burned his throat. He slumped down at the table and drank away. Half a bottle later and he didn’t even remember what he had been so worked up about in the first place.

“Dean?” he heard a voice call quietly behind him.  He whipped his head around it an alarming speed, terrified it was going to be his father. To his relief it was just Sam, who was staring at him in disbelief.

“Sammy!” He slurred, standing up a little too fast and stumbled into the wall. Suddenly Sam’s hands were on his shoulders, steadying him.

“Dean, you promised me you wouldn’t do this again.” He whispered. Dean could see the disappointment in his eyes and it hurt, it physically pained him to have to look at him.

“I’m.. I’m fine Sammy. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m perfectly fine, see?” He stammered, flashing his little brother a huge smile and taking a huge step towards the door. He just wanted to get out of there, away from the worried and disappointed looks Sam kept giving him. Unfortunately his plan didn’t go quite as well as he’d planned in his head when he tripped over his own feet and went flying across the room. Sam moved fast and caught him just before he hit the floor. Sighing, he pushed Dean into the nearest chair.

“Dean, don’t lie to me. You stink of booze and you can barely stand up. You promised you wouldn’t do this again.” Sam said, crouching to Dean’s level to look him dead in the eye. Despite being 2 years younger than Dean, Sam towered over him by at least an inch. Dean refused to meet Sam’s gaze, and looked everywhere he possibly could to avoid the concerned stare he was getting. He hadn’t meant to hurt Sam, he hadn’t even thought about what he was doing.

“Dean!” Sam all but shouted. Dean flinched at the volume of his voice, he was going to wake their parents if he wasn’t careful, and that was a conversation that Dean really wasn’t prepared for.

“Dean. It’s not even 7am yet and you’re completely wasted. It’s the first day of school. What the hell are you playing at?” Sam stood up suddenly, and filled and cup with water before slamming it down onto the table in front of Dean. Dean didn’t even have to wait for instructions, and began gulping down the water. He was being treated like a child by his kid brother, what the fuck had his life come to? Dean of course knew exactly what had messed his life up, but no one knew about that, and no one was going to find out. Not even Sam.

He sat there at the table for a few more minutes, waiting for his head to stop spinning. There was no way he could go to school in the state he was in, but at the exact same time there was no way he could not go. He had promised both his parents and Sam that this would be his turning point. He would put all of this careless, free spirited crap of the summer behind him and knuckle down. He had promised so many times over the last 3 months and so sincerely, that he had almost believed it himself. Shame it had only lasted 3 days, he scoffed to himself.

No, he would get his act together. At least in front of his parents. The last thing he wanted was for his father to get on his case. He was already fully aware of how much of a fuck-up he was, he didn’t need a constant reminder in the form of John Winchester. It wasn’t as if Dean had any unresolved daddy issues, he just needed didn’t like hearing the truth.

Glancing at the clock, he realised it was nearing 7am and his parents would be beginning to wake up. He didn’t want to deal with the inevitable fall out that would happen just yet, so he rushed off into the bathroom to shower and sober up.

40 minutes later and he found himself rushing Sam out of the door.

“Yes Mom, we will be fine. I will make sure he knows where he is going. Yes of course I will look out for him. It’ll be fine, mom. Stop worrying.” He all but screamed at his mother whilst running out of the door. He shouldn’t exactly be driving given the amount of whiskey he had drank less than an hour before but he couldn’t not drive; his parents would know instantly. Sam glared at him as he opened the door of his precious impala to get inside.

“You can’t be serious?” he said, staring at Dean in disgust. Dean sighed.

“Just get in.”

When Sam didn’t so much as blink, he got in the car regardless, starting at the engine and revved the engine. He knew Sam was seriously pissed and he really wasn’t in the mood for arguing with his kid brother. It was Sam’s first day at Lawrence High however, and Dean couldn’t exactly leave him here. Dean sighed, why had he been so stupid? It was the first day of what was supposed to be his fresh start, and he had already fucked up. He wasn’t convinced he’d be able to do it when he had promised Sam we would at least try, but he also hadn’t expected to fall flat on his face at the first hurdle. Dean was jerked out of his thoughts to the sound of a door slamming beside him, and he turned to look at his younger brother.

“Look Sam, I’m sorry. I really am trying, y’know?” He tried. He couldn’t bear it when Sam was mad at him.

“No, Dean. You’re not. Just shut up and drive.” Sam huffed back, pouting to himself and staring out the window with a harsh expression on his face. Dean gave up on winning him over, for now, and backed out of the driveway.

They whizzed through the streets of the small town of Lawrence, Kanzas, in which they lived, in deadly silence. The awkwardness between them was painfully apparent to Dean, who was so used to the pair of them having a fun and joking relationship. He vowed to himself that this time, he really would sort himself out, for Sam’s sake at least.

Dean carefully manoeuvred the car into a space in the school parking lot, taking a great deal of care not to scratch the sides of his beloved baby. The car had not been mobile for even a second before Sam had jumped out, slamming the door behind him. Before Dean could even acknowledge what had happened, Sam was halfway across the parking lot, and heading towards the stairs leading up into the main building.

“Dammit.” Dean cursed to himself, slamming his own door. The noise was loud enough to ring in his ears a bit, making his head throb. “Good luck, Sammy.” He muttered to no one in particular.

“Having problems with the little brother I see?” An unfamiliar voice bellowed beside him. Dean turned in the direction in which the voice had come from, finding his eyes falling on a slightly taller boy than him, who Dean had not seen before.

“Yeah, something like that.” Dean barked back, harshly. He certainly didn’t want to discuss his family issues with anyone, and certainly not with someone whom he had never met.

“Don’t worry mine are the same.” The boy replied, extending his hand out to Dean. “I’m Michael, my family just moved here over the summer.”

Dean was not in the mood to make small talk with the boy, but he also didn’t want to be rude either. He knew it must be hard for him, having just moved here and to be starting at a new school. Let alone the fact that the people in this town had nothing better to do than to gossip relentlessly about anything they could sink their teeth into. Living in a small town meant that everybody knew just about everything about everyone, and he was certain that the school must be buzzing with the news of a new family in town. He scoffed at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

“I’m Dean. Winchester.” He said, meeting the boys hand and shaking it firmly. He glanced a look behind the boy, at the rest of his family who were clambering out of the car. There was a smallish boy, with an impish grin on his face, looking like he was ready to wreck havoc on his new classmates. It was slightly unnerving to look at if he was honest, but at least the boy was happy, he figured. There was another boy who looked to be around the same age as Michael and himself, with a hard look on his face, scowling at his surroundings. There was a girl standing beside him, with hair the brightest shade of red Dean had ever seen, which was flapping around her in the wind. The hair was not what caught Dean’s attention however; it was the boy standing to the right of the girl that caught his attention. This boy had wild hair, which looked as though he hadn’t even bothered to brush through, which was dark, and sticking up randomly in all kinds of places. On anyone else it would have looked ridiculous, but on this boy it didn’t. If anything, it looked good, which was something that came as somewhat of a surprise to Dean. The hair, was still not what had caught Dean’s attention though, it had been his eyes. This boy had the bluest eyes Dean had even seen in his whole life. They were a shocking blue, the colour of the clearest oceans that appear in photographs of those tropical beaches, the places that Dean could only dream of visiting. They were the most captivating pair of eyes Dean had ever seen, and he couldn’t bring himself to tear his own away from them. He knew that he was staring, but he just couldn’t help it. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Winchester. I recognise that name? Your dad, does he own the garage in town?” Michael asked, alerting Dean of his presence once more. Dean pulled his eyes away from the boy, reluctantly to look at him.

“Yeah, he does yeah. Why do you know him?”

“I met him a few weeks ago when we first moved here. My uncle’s car broke down on the way, we had to push it about a mile to the garage” Michael scoffed, shaking his head at the memory. “He did a good job, at a very reasonable rate too.” He added. Dean thought he remembered his dad mentioning something about a new family in town, and that there were kids who were close to both Sam and Dean in age, and seemed like nice enough boys. “I hope to see you both welcome them to the town, boys. Be sure to show them around.” He briefly remembers his dad saying to him and his brother, although the past few weeks have been something of a blur to him, so it wasn’t exactly clear to Dean whether or not the conversation had actually happened or not.

“Oh right, yeah. You’re the Novak’s right? I think I remember my dad mentioning you.” Dean replied. The name Novak rung a bell to him for some reason, he realised, and he hoped that he was right otherwise this conversation would turn incredibly awkward. Before Michael could reply though, the boy with the startling blue eyes cleared his throat, interrupting.

“Well, it really has been a pleasure to meet you, Dean” He said, in a voice that was surprisingly deep, which came as a bit of a shock to Dean. His tone was almost sarcastic which sorta pissed Dean off. He didn’t even know the guy, and he was only being friendly. It wasn’t as if he actually wanted to talk to this family, all he wanted right now was to go to sleep, to stop the throbbing pain in his head, and his slightly blurry vision. “But, we really need to get off now, don’t want to be late on our first day now, do we?” He continued, stalking past Dean and walking towards the main building. What the hell was his problem? Dean found himself wondering. He felt angry that this boy was treating him like a piece of dirt, and he had only known him for all of 2 minutes. He didn’t even know his name, for crying out loud!

“Sorry about him,” Michael said, sighing. “He’s slightly ill-tempered.” Dean almost laughed, slightly was an understatement.  “I’ll see you around, Dean.” He added, walking away with the rest of his siblings. The red headed girl smiled at Dean apologetically as she passed, and Dean decided he liked her. He watched on in awe as the strange family walked towards the school entrance, disappearing through the doors.

“Shit.” Dean cursed to himself, as the school bell sounded, marking the start of homeroom. Dean was going to be late on his first day back. His fresh start seemed to be getting further and further out of his reach. 

 


	2. Chapter Two

Dean had been both late to homeroom on his first day back at school, and he had been given a detention on his first day back. He had served his time and he was now on the way to his first class of the semester, English.  Dean didn’t value English much. It wasn’t as if he hated it, he just didn’t find it particularly interesting and he found it difficult to keep up with the rest of the class. He had somehow landed himself in two AP classes this year; English and Psychology; and he still, to this day was not sure on how we had managed this. He hated the idea of it. He felt stupid, and he felt like he didn’t belong. He was going to avoid attending these classes as much as he possibly could.

He was already at least 10 minutes late to his English class, which he absolutely despised. He wasn’t one who liked to cause attention to himself and he knew that this would be a sure fire way to land himself in the gossip from his fellow students for at least the rest of the day. It wasn’t as if he actually cared, he just didn’t want his personal life to be discussed around the school for the next couple of hours.

Dean stormed down the school corridors, stopping briefly at his locker in order to pick up his copy of To Kill A Mocking Bird, in order to prepare for his lesson with Mrs Talbot. He knew from firsthand experience that Mrs Talbot was not someone to get on the wrong side of, especially not on the first day. He grabbed his copy of the book, slammed his locker shut and ran towards room 104.

To his dismay, the class was already in full swing and he would have to face walking in late, facing the stares and questioning looks from his disapproving classmates. Dean sighed heavily, ran his hand through his hair, and pushed his way into the classroom.

The boy from earlier was present in his English class, and seemed to be heavy in discussion with Mrs Talbot when Dean opened the door. His eyes were the first thing Dean noticed. As soon as Dean had pushed open the door he wanted to run away with the shame and embarrassment burning at him, knowing that every single person in the classroom disproved of his late entrance.

“Apologies Castiel, this young man seems to want to interrupt our discussion here, and make his whereabouts known.” Mrs Talbot stated, somewhat harshly, turning to glance at Dean with the most sinister glare he has ever seen a teacher give a student before. He gulped, probably audibly. This was the last thing he had wanted to happen on his first day back, and he wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole. His head was throbbing, he felt sick, and he felt dizzy and all he wanted was to be back at home in the safety of his bed. Everyone was staring at him and he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to run out of the room and to the bathroom to calm himself down, but he knew only too well what kind of reaction that would have with his classmates, as the same thing had happened to him, mere months ago, when he had to make a quick departure from his Algebra lesson a few weeks before the end of term. It had been hot topic of the student body for weeks, and he vowed that he would not face that terrible ordeal again.

He stalked forwards, feeling the eyes of his fellow English students on him, and placed the detention notice on his teacher’s desk, before flopping into the only seat available. To his dismay, the only seat left was the one behind the new boy that he had newly learned went by the name Castiel,  the boy who had taken an immediate dislike towards him, despite Dean having done nothing but be welcoming to him.

He could feel Castiel’s ocean blue eyes fixed on him, but he refused to meet them. Instead, he settled down into his seat, opened up his copy of To Kill A Mockingbird to the very first page, and proceeded to rest his head on his hands. He was so painfully tired, despite having at least 3 hours sleep last night, something that was a personal best for Dean. He hadn’t slept well in a very long time and it had started to take its effect on Dean.

He could barely focus on the words on the page. He felt like they were all swimming around the page, moving in their positions to create their own words on his page. Failure, stupid, worthless. They all but screamed at him. His head was spinning, his vision was blurring and he couldn’t focus on a single word that Mrs Talbot was stuttering. He rubbed frantically at his eyes, as though he could magically fix the blurry, messy version of the world he was seeing.

“Mr Winchester?” He heard, breaking through his thoughts and snapping him back to reality. He looked up to see Mrs Talbot staring at him, with an exasperated look on her face. She must have been asking him a question, he realises, probably much later than he should have.

“Sorry?” He grunted, not wanting to be having the conversation he knew was about to take place.

“I had asked what your initial views were on the book, although you seem to be finding it uninteresting enough to pay attention to what the class are discussing.” She said, looking flustered. “I expect that for you to somehow manage to keep up with the rest of the class this year, you should consider paying more attention to what is going on around you, Mr Winchester. I won’t speak with you about this again. Consider this your first and only warning.” She snapped, quickly turning on her heels and storming back to the front of the class.

Dean barely so much as had a chance to stutter an apology before she had begun reading from the book once more. His face was burning, he felt humiliated, and he wanted nothing more than to walk straight out of the door. But he didn’t, because he had made a promise to Sammy. A promise to this parents. And a promise to himself. So, instead, he grit his teeth and put every ounce of effort he had left into following the book.

The rest of the class passed without another incident, and the second the bell sounded, Dean could not have gotten out of the room fast enough. Unfortunately for him, his awful luck was not about to run out anytime soon, and he found himself colliding with someone, knocking all of their books and belongings out of their hands, and halfway down the corridor. And of course, because Dean’s luck was just downright atrocious today, the person who he had been unfortunate enough to crash into, had been none other than Castiel Novak, the boy with the shocking blue eyes, and the boy who had taken an immediate dislike towards Dean.

“Shit! Man, I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going at all,” he spluttered, scrambling to retrieve Castiel’s books from across the hallway.

“Of course you weren’t” came his reply. Castiel’s tone was sharp, and iced with a bitter edge to it. Dean walked back over to the boy and handed him his books, stammering out another apology. As he handed over his belongings, their hands touched and Dean could swear he felt a jolt of electricity fly through him. Before he could even react, Castiel was gone.

The next few classes flew by without anything major happening, it was becoming a pretty slow day.  Dean had been reunited with his friends, and he was sat at lunch, listening to Ash and Jo bicker over a portion of fries. Dean’s head was still throbbing and the noise of the cafeteria was not helping. He felt sick, and he felt dizzy. He felt like he was burning up, and his surroundings were becoming more and more of a blur.  He felt trapped, and he needed some air. He needed to get out of the stuffy cafeteria; he needed some water, or something. He stood up from the bench, muttering some form of half-assed explanation to his friends, and stumbled his way into the hallway. He had intended on going to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face, however his body seemed to have a different idea. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t see a single damn thing, and his head was pounding. Everything was loud, and everything was happening all at once. He felt his body falling and he knew that there was nothing he could do, before he knew what had happened, he suddenly felt a strong pair of arms wrap around him as he fell to the ground. The last thing he saw before everything went black was a pair of piercing blue eyes.

 

* * *

 

When Dean finally woke up, he felt extremely disorientated. He opened his eyes and he was met with blinding bright lights, and an excruciating headache which made him feel even worse.

“Dean?” He heard, and within moments he saw the worried face of his little brother.

“Hey Sammy” he said, smiling at him. Sam looked to so relieved to see him, and it made Dean’s heart swell. He truly did hate it when Sam was mad at him.

“What the hell happened?” Dean asked, unable to recall exactly what had just happened.

“You fainted Dean. In the middle of the hallway.”

Dean all but groaned. For starters, he’d passed out in school, and made a complete fool of himself. This would be the talk of the school for the next couple months, and it was only the first day of school. And secondly, the school had called his parents. So he was going to be in a lot of trouble. Not to mention, they didn’t know about the whiskey yet. Dean’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone coming through the doors.

“Dean? Dean?! Are you okay?” He heard, and he instantly recognised the voice of his mother, and saw her rushing towards him. Moments later her hands were on his face, cradling him, checking for any visible damage.

“Yeah, Mom. I’m fine.” He said weakly, sitting up in the seat he was laid in. His father was standing wearily at the door, eyeing up Dean in a way that only hinted at how pissed off he was at Dean.

“What happened? The nurse said that you’d fainted in the middle of the hallway, and a fellow student practically carried you in. You were out cold for a good 5 minutes, she said. How do you feel now? Should we take you to the hospital?” She blubbered, talking faster than was slightly audible. Castiel, he thought. That was the last thing he had remembered, seeing his ridiculously blue eyes before everything had gone black. He looked around the room, searching for the boy. He had been nothing but rude to him since the second he had met him, so he couldn’t possibly fathom why on earth he had bothered to catch him and take him to the nurse’s room. He was grateful though, he realised. He was looking to no avail though, however, when he couldn’t find the boy in the room with him. Part of him felt disappointed, and then Dean immediately felt stupid for feeling it. There was something about this boy, something so incredibly endearing, that just made Dean want to get to know him. He wanted to know more about his strange, mysterious boy, who had taken such an immediate dislike towards him. He needed to know, he felt this strong desire to get to know him, he needed to know more about him, even if it was the last thing he did. He made a promise to himself, for the second time that day, that he would figure out Castiel Novak and he would make sure that he would no longer hate him.

“Mom, I don’t know what happened. All I remember was sitting in the cafeteria, with Jo and Ash, and just feeling like I had to get out of there. I got up and the next thing I know I’m lying here on this weird seat thing with Sam staring at me. I’m fine now though, I feel fine,” he lied. He didn’t feel fine; his head was pounding, and he wanted nothing more than to just sleep for the rest of his life. He was so mortified, he knew that this was not something that he was going to be able to live down and forget about, not when he lived in a town this small. His thoughts were once again interrupted, but this time by his father talking.

“Mary, he’s fine. The nurse said he just needs to go home and rest.” Always the voice of reason, Dean thought.

“Sam, you’ll stay here. Get back to class, Dean will be fine now.” He finished, in a tone so authoritative Dean knew that there was no reasoning with him. He watched as a look of conflict crossed Sam’s face, and he looked over to Dean, as if to ask him to say something.

“It’s fine Sammy, I’m fine. Go back to class, you brain box. Go enjoy your first day at school.” He said, smiling weakly at his baby brother. Sam frowned, but did what Dean said regardless. The second that he was out of the door, his father turned to him.

“You. In the car now.” He all but yelled. Dean gulped, having expected this sort of reaction, but still, an angry John Winchester wasn’t exactly something that anybody wanted to experience. He nodded, and muttered a weak “Yes Sir”, before hopping off the seat, and grabbing his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. He wanted to know what would happen about his car, which was still in the parking lot, him having driven him and Sam to it in school this morning, but he didn’t want to say anything and risk having his father yell at him further. He followed his father out of the door and out of the school. The three of them climbed into his father’s car, without so much of another word being said.

The car journey was awkward, and Dean’s mind was racing with any possible excuse he could use to get himself out of this mess. He couldn’t think of one however, and plus, he knew that anything he said, Sam would only contradict later. The pair of them had an amazing talent at being about to predict what the other would have said, but he knew, when it came down to Dean’s health, and Dean’s drinking habits, his little brother would just snitch on him instantly.

Dean pulled his cell phone out his pocket, and noticed several texts, mostly from a worried Jo.

DEAN. WHAT HAPPENED? I HEARD U FAINTED. THAT WEIRD NEW KID PRACTICALLY CARRIED U 2 THE NURSES OFFICE. IS IT TRUE?

DEAN! R U OK?

DEAN, SO HELP ME GOD IF U DONT REPLY 2 ME IN THE NXT 5 MINUTES I’M BUSTING OUT OF THIS CLASS AND COMING TO UR HOUSE.

And one from Sammy, reading “GOOD LUCK.”

Dean smirked. He and Jo had been best friends for as long as he could remember. Bobby, who was practically Sam and Dean’s second dad, his father’s best friend, and co-owner of the garage, had introduced his parents to her mother, Ellen Harvelle, and her and his mom had hit it off instantly. So growing up, they were kinda forced to be friends with each other. It hadn’t been a bad thing though, and he and Jo got on like a house on fire.

He texted back a quick reply, letting her know that he was alive and that he would talk to her later. They had pulled up on the driveway, and it was time to brace himself for the shitstorm that was about to come.

All but seconds after the front door had shut, his father was yelling, blinded by his fury.

“What the hell do you think that you’re playing at?” He bellowed, his voice piercing through Dean and filling him with dread.

“It’s the first day back, and you pass out drunk in the freaking school hallway! What the hell were you doing drinking anyway? I thought you said that you were at least going to try to sort yourself out! I am so angry with you right now Dean, I don’t even want to look at you!”

Dean hung his head in shame. He had been so fucking stupid, and he didn’t know what to say. He knew that there was no point in arguing with his father, but he was just so fucking angry. Why did everybody have to get so involved in his business? He was fine, he was fucking fine. He didn’t need everybody’s concern, and he certainly didn’t need his father to lecture him. Dean didn’t have a drinking problem, he didn’t. He was fine. 

“I didn’t pass out drunk, dad! What the fuck do you think of me? Do you really think I would have driven Sammy to school this morning, if I didn’t feel up to it? Do you really think that I would put his life in danger? I was fine, I don’t know why I passed out, dad, it just happened!” he yelled back, instantly regretting it because he just sounded so stupid. His father snorted.

“Yeah Dean, you hadn’t been drinking, right? So what do you call this?” He said, holding up the half empty whiskey bottle from this morning. “Did you really think I wouldn’t have noticed? Do you think I’m stupid, boy!” he screamed. Dean could see his father shaking with anger, but yet that didn’t stop him from exploding, either. He just yelled at his father, and he yelled at his mom. He screamed until he had no more words left to say, and he stormed off into his bedroom and threw things about. He kicked his clothes across the floor, he pounded on the walls. He screamed into his pillow about how worthless and pathetic he was, until finally the events of today and his lack of sleep for the last few weeks caught up with him, and he fell asleep to the sounds of his mothers muffled sobs coming from the room down the hall.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys,  
> First off, I apologize for the slightly boring filler chapter ahead, I am trying to post a new chapter every week and I've been struggling a little with this chapter, having not been quite sure where I am trying to go with this fanfic just yet, and therefore it's been well over a week since I last updated.  
> Secondly, I am an English writer, trying to write in an American context, so obviously I have no first-hand experience with the American education system, so if there are any inconsistencies, please forgive me, and also point them out to me!!   
> Thirdly, this chapter has not been proof-read by anyone other than myself so please excuse any possible typos, or incorrect grammar. (thank you!!)  
> That all being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 3

When Dean woke up, it was dark. His head still hurt, but he felt much better than he had before. He sat up, running his hands across his face, and through his hair. Over on the nightstand beside his bed, was a glass of water with 2 Tylenol waiting for him. He smiled to himself, knowing that Sam must have snuck in when he’d gotten home from school to leave them there for him. He needed to go talk to his baby brother, and make things right. He didn’t want to leave the safety of his bedroom, however, as he knew that things were likely to kick off again when he did. He hadn’t meant for things to escalate as quickly as they had, but he was just so angry. Everything about his father made him angry, and he felt like his father didn’t even care that he was at least trying.

Dean reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his cell phone. It was 10:30pm, meaning he had been asleep for the last 8 hours, which was an unusually long time for Dean. He still felt groggy and exhausted, but getting some form of sleep would probably have done him some good, he figured. Sighing, Dean stood up, pulling a sweatshirt off of his chair, and slipping it over his head. He opened his bedroom door, and ducked out, trying to make as little noise as possible. He tiptoed down the hallway and up to his brother’s door. He knocked twice, as quite as humanly possible, and waited for the door to open. Less than a second later, the door was open and tired looking Sam was peering at him.

“Hey Sammy,” he whispered, as Sam opened the door a little wider to let Dean in. He walked over to his little brother’s bed and sat down. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, and he wasn’t sure how Sam was going to react, either.

“Look Sammy I’m-” he started, but was quickly cut off by Sam.

“No Dean, don’t. I know. I’m sorry for how I acted, I was a jerk. I know how hard you’re trying and I know that there are going to be times where you mess up and that’s totally fine, because I am going to be here for you when you do, and I will help you get on your feet again, because you are my big brother and I would do anything to help you.” He said, looking at Dean.

Dean was stunned silent for a moment. He had the best brother in the world. He of course knew this anyway, but that had been just what he’d needed to hear. He didn’t care if he was disappointing his father, as long as he wasn’t disappointing Sam.

“I-” He started, unsure of what to say. “Uh, thanks Sammy” he mumbled, feeling stupid that he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Sam just smiled at him, and sat down at his desk and continued to write in his book, presumably what he had been doing before Dean had interrupted him.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, curious. It never failed to amaze him just how bright and smart Sam really was. No matter what you put that kid through; he always managed to bounce back with straight A’s. It put Dean to shame really, who was somewhat of a mess when it came to school and grades. He didn’t mind though, he was proud of his little brother and he knew that he would go on to do great things.

“Algebra homework” Sam sighed, turning around in his chair to look at Dean. He looked tired, and more than a little stressed out. “I enjoy Math, really I do, but it really isn’t my strongest subject.” He continued. Dean could tell that it was weighing on Sam’s mind, and although he knew that Sam was being ridiculous and the kid was probably still going to come out of that class with an A average, he didn’t want to dismiss his brothers worries like it was nothing.

“Sam, you’re amazing. Don’t worry about it, you’ll ace it anyway. But if it helps I can try and find someone to tutor you, if you want. I mean I’m sure there’s someone I can convince to help you out.” He suggested. He wasn’t sure who he would rope into helping his brother out but he knew that there were several people in his own math class that were more than capable. He’d have to get to work on charming someone into helping. Not that he enjoyed doing it, but Dean was incredibly good at flirting his way into getting things from other people. Sam seemed to like this idea though, as his face immediately lit up as soon as the words had left Dean’s mouth.

“Really, Dean?” He replied, eager. Dean smirked as his brother’s enthusiasm and nodded.

“How was your first day at school though, Sammy? Make any friends? Anyone give you any grief?” He asked. He had wanted to make sure that Sam was comfortable during his first day at Lawrence High, and he had wanted to look out for him, but he had managed to fuck that idea up greatly within the first few hours of being awake.

“It was okay.” Sam started, “I’ve made a few friends, I think. There’s this one boy who’s in all my classes except Algebra called Gabriel. Just moved to town with his brothers, from like, Boston, or something. His brother, Castiel, is in your year, Dean. He’s the one who caught you and took you to the nurse’s office earlier.”

Dean felt his face heat up at this statement. He knew that Castiel had been the one to catch him, because he remembered his shockingly blue eyes, right before everything had turned black. He remembered how strong and sturdy his grip had felt, despite the boy’s lean and slightly feeble looking appearance. He remembered how it had felt when the two of them had touched, he remembered the electrical jolt he had felt, and how warm it had made him feel. Dean remembered how _safe_ he had felt in the boy’s arms, which was utterly ridiculous because he didn’t even know the boy. Dean remembered all of this, but he didn’t want to let on that he did.

“Oh, yeah. I met the Novak’s briefly this morning. They were the ones that Dad had been talking about the other day, remember? The ones that had pushed their car miles down the road to the garage?” He said, trying to change the topic about Castiel and onto something he could talk about without blushing like an idiot. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, he had never been this giddy, and quite frankly, pathetic, over a girl before, let alone a guy.

It turned out that Sam didn’t remember, but that was far from important. Dean stayed in Sam’s room chatting about his little brothers first day in high school for the next half hour, until Sam looked like he was physically struggling to keep his eyes open. Dean had instructed him to get some sleep, and that his Algebra homework could be tackled again tomorrow.

“Tomorrow is another day, little brother” Dean had said, before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him. He headed back to his bedroom and sat on the edge of his bed. He was ridiculously hungry, after all he didn’t think he had eaten all today, but he didn’t want to go down the stairs and face round two with his father. Their fight this afternoon had been enough for one day. So instead, Dean lay on his bed, thinking over the day’s events and about how much he didn’t want to go to school tomorrow. Although Sam had tried to play it down, he knew that this little fainting stunt would be the talk of the school, and probably the town for the next week at least. He lay and thought about how much of a fuck-up he was, and how he was a complete waste of space. But the thing that he lay and thought about the most, was the boy with the startling blue eyes that had seemed to catch Dean’s attention, whom he couldn’t seem to get out of his mind.

-

Dean had been at school for approximately 10 minutes and he already wanted to go home. Everywhere he walked people stared at him, some scoffing, some dramatically faking a fainting scene in front of him, some laughing. He grit his teeth as he walked past them, trying to remain calm and resisting the urge to throw them up against a locker. He walked through the corridors with Sam, and for the third time in the last minute he thought about how grateful he was to not have to walk through the halls alone. He felt Sam looking at him again, but he refused to meet his gaze. He would not let Sam know how much this was bothering him.

A few moments later, Sam had noticed one of his new friends standing at their lockers. After bidding his brother goodbye, and warning him not to get angry and do anything “stupid”, he has run off to join them, leave Dean to walk alone into homeroom.

The next few classes passed by with nothing interesting to happen. People were still looking at him and whispering to their friends at every given opportunity, but nothing happened. His teachers had given him a pitying look as he had walked through the door, and Miss Mills had even gone as far to tell him to not hesitate to take himself to the nurse’s room immediately should he feel ill again. He appreciated the sincerity, but he didn’t like to be pitied.

The next class he had was English, which was the class in which he shared with Castiel. He didn’t know whether he should say anything to the boy or not, given that he had saved his ass the day before, but he also didn’t want to draw any more attention to the fiasco then he already had. He also didn’t think that Castiel would be interested in anything that Dean would have to say, after he had acted as though he could care less for Dean in the two other occasions they had interacted.

Dean made his way into the classroom, 5 minutes early, in order to try to get himself back into Mrs Talbot’s good books after falling so incredibly flat on his face yesterday with the good first impression he had intended to give. He sat in class, reading over the section of the book that they had been reading yesterday, when he had been paying absolutely no attention. If he was going to have any chance, no matter how small it was, in passing this AP class, he would need to throw all of his efforts into it. He was so engrossed in the book, that he hadn’t even noticed that the room had filled up with students, until Mrs Talbot cleared her throat, and addressed the class to attention. The seat in front of Dean was empty, and Dean would be lying if he didn’t admit that his heart sank slightly when he realised. It was only Castiel’s second day at school and he wasn’t even here. A stab of worry suddenly overcame Dean. What if Castiel had hated his first day and had not wanted to come back? The boy hadn’t exactly seemed the happiest about being here. Dean spent the rest of the lesson attempting to focus on the lesson, whilst trying hopelessly and unsuccessfully to chase thoughts about the blue eyed boy and his family away.

When the bell to signal the end of the class and the start of lunch, Dean had never felt to relived. He was absolutely starving, having failed to wake up early enough to allow himself the time to eat some of the breakfast his mother had prepared the boys, and he raced his way into the canteen. After picking up a burger and fries, he made his way over to the table where he spotted Jo and Ash sitting at. He’d forgotten to reply to Jo last night, he realised, as he watched the look on her face turn from a goofy smile to a look of anger when she noticed him walking their way. Dean watched as she leapt up from her seat and over to him, smacking him on the shoulder and yelling about how she had been worried sick all night. Dean couldn’t help but smile as he thought about the resemblance between her and her mother. Ellen had more than once given him the same lecture when he had failed to stop by the Roadhouse to see her for a while.

“I’m sorry Jo, I feel asleep mid afternoon and didn’t wake up until gone 10, where I just went and hung out with Sammy.” He explained, sitting down at the table. He watched as Jo frowned, accepting his story.

“So what happened yesterday? The school has been alive with the gossip but I’ve heard so many versions of events now that I don’t even know what actually happened.” She asked. Dean sighed, and took a huge bite into his burger.

“Man, I don’t even know,” he stared, speaking with his mouth full. “I was feeling really dizzy and just wanted to go to the bathroom and splash some water on my face and get some air, or something. But halfway there everything just went black and apparently I passed out.”

Jo’s eyebrows furrowed at this, as if she was contemplating his story. Dean could tell that she was trying to work out what was wrong with him and why he had fainted, and no doubt she would give him a full diagnosis.

Before she could say anything however, Ash piped up with “Didn’t one of those new kids catch you or something?” Dean could already feel his cheeks heat up the second that the words had left his mouth. He had been hoping that he wouldn’t have to tell them this part of this story.

“Yeah,” he replied sheepishly. “It was Castiel. He was there in the hallway when it happened, took me to the nurses office, apparently. That’s what Sam said, anyway.” He wasn’t going to admit that he remembered him being there, remembered those bright blue eyes....

Lunchtime passed uneventfully. Jo had continued to quiz him on the events of the previous day, and asked him about his classes. The pair of them weren’t in any of the same classes this year, much to Dean’s dismay. I mean, sure, he had plenty of friends, and lots of people tried to talk to him but he had very little patience for anyone who wasn’t Jo, Ash or Sammy. Last year had been a complete different story; he’d been part of the baseball team, popular, always in the public eye. It had been great, he’d had instant invitations to all the major parties, and events that happened in the school calendar, and he had gotten more than his fair share of action with the cheerleaders, and well, any girl he could get his hands on to be honest. But this year was different. After the events of the summer, he didn't want to be that person anymore. He had barely spoken to any of his old friends, with the exception of Benny, who still, he hadn’t spoken to in a while. All he wanted to do was blend in, keep himself under the radar. He wasn't interested in any of the girls this year, and he wasn’t even sure if he was going to try out for the baseball team again this year or not. He knew that both of his parents would be disappointed if he didn't, and his one, very small, chance at getting to college next year was to get scholarship by playing baseball, but he wasn't sure if he could handle it all this year. Not after what had happened, anyway.

His last class of the day was Gym, and he really wasn’t in the mood for it. So much so, he decided to skip it, and hide out in the library for the rest of the school day. He nearly laughed at the complete ridiculousness of it; when was the last time Dean had been in a Library? He’d never have been seen dead in one last year, and he especially wouldn't have been skipping Gym class in the first place. He didn’t feel like mingling with his former team mates, though. He wasn't even sure if his body could handle any amounts of rigorous exercise anyway, and he definitely didn’t want a repeat of yesterday.  Plus, his head was still pounding, he felt sick, and his hands were trembling slightly. He would go tomorrow, he promised himself. Empty promises were something that Dean seemed to be making to himself more and more lately, ones that he wasn't even sure he could keep.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!   
> Once again, this chapter hasn't had the chance to be proof read, as I am trying to upload to you guys as quickly as possible, so please excuse any possible typos etc.  
> Just wanted to say a quick thanks to those of you who have left kudos and comments, I really appreciate it as they definitely encourage me to continue with this fic!  
> I am considering writing a few chapters from Cas' point of view, and wondered if this was something any of you would be interested in? If so, be sure to let me know!!  
> Thanks again for taking interest in my fic, and enjoy the chapter!

The fallout of the Winchester family wasn’t something that either Sam or Dean were taking lightly. Being in the house was awkward, and everyone seemed to be tiptoeing around each other, afraid that the smallest thing was going to cause an explosion. Dean hadn’t spoken to his father since their argument; even know he knew that he should. He just couldn’t bring himself to have to admit that he was in the wrong. Dean hated doing that. He hated having to apologize, especially for something that he felt that he shouldn’t even have to. He knew that he had been unfair to have erupted in the way that he had, but at the same time, he didn’t regret it. He had needed to let all that anger, the guilt and frustrations that he felt out, but he knew that it shouldn’t have been directed at his parents. He felt awful for his mother. Mary Winchester was the sweetest and most kind hearted woman. She was completely selfless, and very rarely did anything for herself. She had been Dean’s rock growing up, and Dean felt so much guilt for putting her through what he had over the last couple of months. It can’t be easy watching someone you care so much for completely throwing their life away, acting reckless and putting their life in danger over and over again, he realised.

So, here Dean was, sat at the table for a family meal. They were sat in complete silence, and you could literally have cut the awkwardness with a knife. Sam kept catching his gaze and giving him looks of desperation, probably to say something to kill the silence. But Dean didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to say anything that would make his father angry, so instead he sat and said nothing. The room was thick with tension, and the only sounds being made were the scrapes of their cutlery against their plates. Two minutes later and his mother finally broke the silence.

“So boys, how is school going?” She asked. Dean glanced at Sam, and then his father. He raised his eyebrows at Sam, to urge him to talk first.

“It’s okay,” he mused, “Classes are going fine, except Algebra, which I sucks at, but other than that, it’s all fine. I’m really enjoying History. I’m making friends too!” He gushed. Dean listened as his brother began to seem less awkward and uncomfortable and launched himself into the conversation, gushing about all about his first two days at high school. He listened as Sam described his friend Gabriel, who turned out to be Castiel’s little brother, and their sister Anna. He learnt that there was a girl who went by the name of Jessica, who every time Sam mentioned, he blushed terribly. Dean knew that as the role of the big brother, it was his duty to further investigate this girl, and embarrass Sam further, and he vowed that he would do exactly that. He stiffened at the mention of Ruby; Dean had heard more than enough about this girl and her apparent escapades and the girl had only been in school for two days. Despite this, Sam seemed to be very fond of the girl, and Dean almost groaned in frustration. Sam had never been the best in character judgement.

Dean was so wrapped up in his thoughts about Sam that he didn’t even hear his mother ask him a question.

“Dean?” he heard, and his head snapped up to meet his mother’s worried glance.

“Yes, Mom. Sorry.” He mumbled, picking up his glass of water and taking a gulp. His mother repeated her question, which had been about how school was going for him. School was going terribly, quite frankly, but he wasn’t about to admit that. So instead, he did what he does best, and he lied.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. Classes are okay, teachers are all fine. Everything’s okay.” He stuttered, lamely. He didn’t want to talk about it, and he shovelled a large forkful of the chicken pie his mother had baked into his mouth. The pie was the best thing that Dean had ever tasted in his life. His mother was an exceptional cook, and he never failed to tell her so.

“Mom, this pie is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he announced, a mouthful of it muffling its sound. His mother smiled warmly, at the same time that Sam rolled his eyes, and John chastised him for talking his mouth full. That was essentially their family in a nutshell. Mary was always warm and kind hearted, Sam would always roll his eyes at everything Dean did, despite often joining in with the banter and jokes the two of them had between them, whilst John would always find some way to pick holes in the boys. John was extremely ill-tempered and cantankerous, and it seemed as though he was never happy with anything the Winchester boys did.

John and Dean used to have a much better relationship when Dean was much younger. As a kid, Dean would hang on every word the man said, and would follow his every order. He enjoyed spending as much time as he possibly could with his father, hence how he had developed such a knack for mechanics. It was the one thing that Dean was any good at, and it was also the only thing that John and Dean seemed to get along about now-a-days. Dean worked at his father’s garage on the weekends, and somehow, the two managed to get along for those few hours. John’s co-worker Bobby was more like a father to Dean than John was, if he was being completely honest. Sure, the guy was a complete grunt, but he always managed to sprout words of wisdom that helped Dean out. When Dean had first got himself into trouble, it had been Bobby who Dean had found himself asking for help from.

The rest of the night passed by smoothly, with Dean and John avoiding each other at all costs. Sam and Dean played video games until their mother put her head around the door and told them it was getting late. Dean once again lay in bed, thoughts of the blue-eyed boy until he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

Dean woke to the sound of his alarm. Without so much as lifting his head from the pillow, he fumbled around blindly on his bedside table, trying to find the source of the, horrendous beeping sound. When his hands came into contact with the clock, he smacked the top to silence it, before throwing it halfway across his bedroom. He groaned. Last night was the first night in months that he has slept the entirety of the night, and didn’t experience any of the dreadful nightmares he had been having, and he hadn’t been ready to end the perfect sleep he had been in. He’d must have gotten at least 8 hours sleep, yet he still felt absolutely exhausted. He continued to lay with his head facedown in his pillow, at least for another few minutes, he told himself.

He was startled awake by the sound of Sam yelling at him to get his lazy ass out of bed. He must have fallen asleep again, he mused. Instead of getting up though, he grabbed a pillow and threw it in the direction he assumed Sam was in. He knew that he had judged right, when he heard Sam scream in frustration and storm out of his bedroom.

“Jerk!” He heard, as the bedroom door slam shut. Dean smirked to himself, muttering “Bitch” in response. Dean allowed himself to lie in bed for another minute or so, before finally, he figured he really should get out of bed. He sat up, ran his fingers threw his short, dirty blonde hair and reached over to grab his cell phone and check the time. Shit, he cursed, as he realised school started in 15 minutes, and they lived a 10 minute drive from the campus. He jumped out of bed, threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and ran down the stairs, grabbing his bag as he went.

“Come on Sammy!” he yelled, as he snatched a slice of toast from the kitchen, kissing his mom on the cheek. Sam appeared, and they dashed out of the door and into the car. Dean sped down the road, probably breaking the speed limit but he didn’t want to cause Sam a tardy in his first week of high school. They turned into the parking lot, tires screeching and Dean pulled sharply into the first free space his eyes laid eyes on. Before he had even stalled the car, Sam had opened the door and started towards the building, yelling a “See you later Dean!” as he ran. Dean himself managed to make it to home room, right as the bell sounded.

Dean’s morning classes went by smoothly, he concentrated as much as was possible for him, and took down the necessary notes. He didn’t falter when Mr Walker called on him in biology, and he even managed to get the question right. He felt ridiculously pleased with himself, and he didn’t care how lame that was. Now, he found himself sat in English, hoping that Castiel would have returned to school today. He had been so disappointed when he had been absent yesterday, as he desperately wanted to thank him for what had done. That’s what he told himself, anyway. It definitely wasn’t disappointment because he wanted to see him and his beautiful blue eyes again, of course. The anxious wait to see if he was present today was short lived, when he looked up as the door opened to reveal an absolutely exhausted looking Castiel. His hair was dishevelled, even more so than the first time Dean had laid his eyes on him, his shirt was crumpled, his collar sticking up and he had dark bags under his eyes. His eyes, although still impossibly blue, looked dull, and were framed by a pair of thick, black rimmed glasses. Despite looking completely drained of all energy, Dean thought he looked absolutely adorable. He hadn’t been wearing glasses before, he realised. The thing that stood out the most to Dean however, was that the boy’s left arm was encased in a cast. Dean was instantly filled with worry. What had happened to the boy?

He watched as Castiel sat down in his seat in front of him, without evening acknowledging Dean’s existence. Dean felt hurt and offended, even though it was foolish for him to. After all he’d only met the boy twice, but he couldn’t help but feel as though they had some form of connection, after what Castiel had done for Dean. He’d thought that Castiel would at least have smiled at him or something. Dean spent the rest of the lesson trying to think of something to say to the boy who had flooded his thoughts over the last couple of days.

The sound of the lunch bell broke Dean out of his thoughts, and brought him back to the real world. He watched as every one of his classmates, including Castiel, jumped up and began to exit the class room. Dean followed suit, hurriedly throwing his books into his bag, slung it over his shoulder and speed out of the class room after Castiel.

“Castiel!” He called out down the hallway. “Castiel, hey, Cas, wait up!” Castiel slowed, before coming to a halt in the middle of the corridor and turning to face Dean. He squinted at Dean, and cocked his head to the side, as if he was trying to understand why Dean had spoken to him.

“Hello Dean,” He said after a few moments, in his deep gravelly voice. Dean swallowed. He’d not even decided what he was going to say to the boy.

“Look I,” He started, hunting for the words that he wanted to say. “I just wanted to thank you for, well y’know.” He finished, lamely, suddenly embarrassed. There was something about this boy that intrigued him, but he couldn’t quite work out why. Being within this close a proximity to him made him feel nervous and he felt like he was a complete wreck. His brain couldn’t formulate coherent words and he felt flustered.

“It’s no problem, Dean. I merely did something that any decent human being would have done having been put in similar circumstances. I just happened to be in the hallway at the same time that you came stumbling past, and before I knew it you were hurtling towards the floor.” He replied. Dean smiled awkwardly.

“Well, I just wanted to say thanks, and that I appreciate it.” He said, fiddling with his hands. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous, it was utterly ridiculous. Cas turned abruptly and began to walk away.

“Cas, wait!” He called after him. Castiel turned around to face Dean once again, somewhat begrudgingly, with a slightly exasperated look on his face. Dean swallowed. “I uh- just wanted to check that you were okay, I mean, you weren’t in school yesterday and it’s only the first week back, and I can’t help but notice your injury I-” He stammered, gesturing to the boys arm which was wrapped in a cast and supported by a sling. The glare that Dean received from the boy stopped him dead mid sentence. Castiel’s face hardened, his shockingly blue eyes turned icy and for a minute, Castiel looked downright dangerous. The expression lasted less than a second though, and after blinking a few times, Dean wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. Castiel forced his mouth into a tight line, and shrugged.

“I’m fine,” he all but barked at Dean, and turned and stalked away, leaving Dean standing alone, wondering what he could have possibly done to cause such a quick change in his attitude.

Five minutes later and Dean found himself grumbling about it to Jo and Ash, as he plonked himself down at their usual table, with a tray filled with pizza and a diet soda.

“Stupid Castiel” he muttered, “got such a stick up his ass”. He felt so angry with himself. It had been idiotic for him to have confronted the boy about it. He’d only meant well though, he told himself, he hadn’t meant to pry, and he certainly hadn’t meant to piss Castiel off even more than he seemingly already had in the very short space of time he had known him. Ash and Jo completely burst out in fits of laughter at this statement from Dean, and Dean looked up to glare at them, which in turn, only made them laugh more.

“What?” He demanded, impatient and not at all in the mood to be the subject of the pairs humour. After a few moments to compose herself, Jo began to explain to Dean about an experience they had already shared with Castiel. Apparently Benny had been less than welcoming to the boy, and it had resulted in some kind of confrontation between the two. Dean’s heart ached at this. He felt terrible for Castiel, making an enemy of the most popular boy in school really wasn’t the smartest thing to have done in his first week at a brand new school. His heart also ached at the thought of his former best friend. He hadn’t spoken to Benny all summer, and he honestly didn’t know what he was going to do when he finally came face to face with him. Dean had been avoiding gym class, and every other place in the school that he knew he was likely to come in contact with any member of the baseball team. He knew that it was a really pathetic thing to be doing, but he didn’t know what else to do. He hadn’t fallen out with any of his old friends exactly, but he knew that they were a terrible influence. He longed to be friends with them again, but he didn’t want to become involved with all the shit that he had done the year before. He wanted to be a different person this year, a good one. He had never found enjoyment in bullying his classmates. He had never found any of the pranks that his so called friends had found to be the best possible thing to occupy the duration of their high school lives with funny, and he had honestly just felt bad the entire time for not stepping in to stop them. Benny hadn’t always been like this though, sure, he could be a complete dick, but he had been one of Dean’s best friends for a long time. He had shown him the ropes in their Freshman year, and kept him out of trouble ever since. He just didn’t have the ability to know when he had gone too far.

The duration of their lunchtime passed quickly, too quickly, and Dean found himself heading in the direction of library, to avoid gym class for the third day in a row. Unfortunately for Dean, as he walked hurriedly past the gymnasium, he walked straight someone.

“Woah, hey sorry man-” He started, but stopped suddenly when he realised who he’d walked into. Castiel. He couldn’t believe his luck. This had been the second time in two days that Dean had found himself in literal contact with the boy. Dean had had his arms on the boy’s shoulders to steady them both when they had collided, and he quickly dropped them back down to his sides. Castiel glared at him, as he pushed past and through the gymnasium doors. Against his better judgement, Dean found himself following the boy, and into the locker room.

“Hey Winchester!” he heard a voice bellow, seconds later he felt a smack on his shoulder. He whirled around to see Benny beaming at him, pulling him to a hug.

“Hey bro!” He continued, acting like nothing had happened between the two of them. Well, Dean realised suddenly, nothing had actually happened. Dean had merely worked himself up and convinced himself that Benny was going to hate him.

“Long time, no speak! How you been Dean?” he asked, slamming down his bag onto the bench beside Dean. He smiled to himself.

“Okay man,” he replied, “Sorry I’ve not been in contact, been busy with work in my dad’s garage and all that.” he lied. “How are you? You and Meg still going strong?” he inquired, genuinely curious. He had missed Benny, he concluded.

“Nah man, don’t worry about it! How is your old man? Still as grumpy as ever?” he laughed. “Yeah, Meg’s a babe, things are really starting to get serious now, if you know what I mean” he added, wiggling his eyebrows. Dean laughed, Benny had been trying to get into Meg’s pants for as long as he could remember. The two boys exchanged conversation, for the next five minutes as they got changed ready for their class. This term was focused on soccer, Benny had informed him, much to Dean’s displeasure.

 The class passed by quickly, thankfully, because Dean really wasn’t particularly talented at soccer. Sure, he was pretty impressive at baseball and most other sports, but he definitely could do without running around a pitch in the rain and kicking a ball backwards and forwards for 90 minutes. He was more than relieved when Coach told them to call it a day and to head back to the locker room.

Dean listened in to his friends conversations, joining in with their banter and it was like the summer had never happened. He laughed along with them and for the first time in weeks, Dean felt as though he was genuinely having a good time, he felt somewhat happy and like a small weight had been lifted off his chest. He watched as Castiel glared at him, as he made his exit from the locker room. He watched as Brad stuck his foot out at the last minute, and tripped Cas up, causing him to fall flat on his face. He watched as all of Castiel’s belongings flew across the room. He watched as a look of pain flashed across Cas’ face, as he had outstretched his arms to catch his fall. He watched as the entire locker room erupted in laughter, and as not a single one of them bothered to check if he was okay. He watched on as all this happened, and yet he did absolutely nothing to stop them.


End file.
